The Warriors’ first game of the NBA Finals was in overtime last Thursday night, but only a handful of patrons inside El Toro nightclub even glanced at the TV above the bar. Most had their eyes trained on the elevated boxing ring set up in the center of the club’s dance floor. In the middle of the ring, towering above the crowd in high heels and a blue wig, drag queen Pollo Del Mar kicked off a night of over-the-top wrestling, complete with rivalries, soap opera antics and prolonged heckling.

Flashing lights crisscrossed the nightclub while people filled in the three rows of chairs lined up around the ring. Several fans were more than willing to sit inches from the mat, thrilled to high-five the night’s collection of Bay Area professional wrestlers. Each match was like a local version of the professional wrestling one might see on pay-per-view. Every wrestler portrayed a character, complete with a storyline and shtick. Glitter make-up was involved. Quesadillas and beer were served ringside.

Outside on San Bruno Avenue, businesses were shutting down for the night, but inside El Toro, wrestling match attendees were booing spandex-clad fake villains with fervor.

Thursday’s “Wrestling for Charity” was the fourth such event Del Mar has helped organize at El Toro. Proceeds from the $20 cover charge benefit the Portola Neighborhood Association, a cause close to Del Mar’s heart.

“For the longest time, there was nothing here,” said Del Mar, who lives blocks away from the club. “Now there’s a Four Barrel Coffee, the FDR Brewery, and they’re planning a home garden tour.”

As a resident of this southern nook of San Francisco, Del Mar wanted to pitch in and help the neighborhood association in its quest to revitalize San Bruno Avenue. Her involvement began as the host of a popular Drag Queen Bingo night — also at El Toro — and now wrestling.

“We might not be considered the height of culture, but the association wants to promote arts and culture,” said Del Mar. “This is a family-friendly event.”

A love of professional wrestling is not required for entry. I’ve never followed this genre of “sports entertainment,” but the spectacle was worth the trip to San Bruno Avenue. Del Mar, who once gave me a drag queen makeover for the purposes of this column, writes much of the night’s storylines. Wrestlers aren’t the only characters. Their “managers” and various “staff” are involved in the drama as well. Costumes are theatrical, personalities are tongue in cheek — in no way does this event take itself too seriously. And as a drag queen emcee, Del Mar aims to make Wrestling for Charity at El Toro the nation’s most inclusive professional wrestling event.

“When I was growing up knowing I was gay in Texas, I thought that pro wrestling wouldn’t embrace me,” Del Mar said. “If I had known that I might have been embraced, my path might have been different.”

While she might only take the ring as a “general manager” and receive the occasional scripted body slam, Del Mar also hosts a wrestling podcast called “Arm Drag Take Down with Pollo Del Mar.”

“Professional wrestling is something that all people can enjoy,” said Del Mar. “It’s the clash of good and evil, right and wrong, dark and light.”

As we chatted, a man whose face was covered in Halloween paint approached Del Mar with a question. “I’ll talk to you about it backstage,” said Del Mar before turning back to me. “He’s my ‘mortal enemy,’” she deadpanned.

Del Mar kept her heavily lashed eyes on the door, even as the wrestling got under way. Attendance was a bit thinner than at past events. Likely the Warriors game was keeping folks at home, and fans trickled in long after the event’s 8 p.m. start time. Really, Del Mar just wants Wrestling for Charity at El Toro to be a hit.

“It’s hard to carve out an audience of wrestling fans in this city,” she said.

The dozens who did attend made up an enthused crowd, and many seemed well aware of existing story lines. They knew which wrestlers to boo; they knew which wrestlers to cheer. Several were so invested in the “predetermined outcomes” that they stood, frosty beer mugs in hand, to scream encouragement or disgust. Del Mar, the ever-popular hostess, was often met with chants of “Pollo!”